I'm Your Villain
by diabolikal rapture
Summary: After Sark's escape Sydney is determined to find him and return him to CIA custody.
1. Part One

**Title:** I'm Your Villain

**Author:** Diabolikal Rapture / Britt

**Summary: **After Sark's escape Sydney is determined tofind himand return him to CIA custody.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Alias.

**A/N:** First attempt at some Sarkney, requested by qblisa, so I hope you like this! Takes place after 4x09 Man of His Word. Title taken from the song by Franz Ferdinand. Please R&R. / **Britt**

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**I'm Your Villain**

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Sydney stared at her computer, the glow of the screen illuminating her as she continued to run through the events of the past week. Sark's escape ate at her, gnawed at her mind as she wondered whether there was more they could have done, more _she_ could have done to prevent his escape. Sure things had ultimately gone her way; the bomb had been secured, Anna had been detained, and she and Nadia had managed to survive the predictions of the prophecy...but still...it was always the one that got away that always seemed to overshadow any kind of accomplishment.

What seemed to annoy her even more was Sark himself, his cocky attitude, and sudden changes that had been brought about by months of solitary confinement. Sure Sark had kept his word, but his word meant little to her. His objectives were never clear, and his loyalties could never be predicted. Sydney wondered if he even had an employer now, seeing as the CRF had all but dissolved, whether he'd completely abandoned the Covenant, or whether or not he had found himself a new player to work for. Regardless of the identity of the employer, one thing and one thing only seemed to ring true regardless of the circumstances... Sark operated for no one but himself.

Syd frowned. It was easy enough to imagine Sark's capture; the harsh reality was that it'd be difficult to set in motion. He was smart, he could sense traps and he wouldn't willingly walk into them. Sark wouldn't make it easy for her, and who knew how long it'd be before an opportunity presented itself. All she could do was wait...

* * *

Sark slipped into the room shrouded in darkness as he inched closer inside. He'd found out that the room wasn't secured in any way other than a lock, but he still felt weary of some kind of alarm system. Something of such high secrecy wouldn't normally be left open to intruders. He stood from his crouching position as he removed his night-vision goggles and turned on his torch. He shone it over the interior of the mausoleum. It looked exactly as it had the first time he'd visited her there.

Sark turned towards the southern wall, to the screen that held her remains. He snorted. He still couldn't believe that they kept her here. The respect they held for the dead seemed so hypocritical. The body of an agent was given such an elaborate funeral, a memorial, a hero's send off. And there behind that screen she laid…no such burial for her. But he was going to make sure that she received the burial she deserved. Sark crouched once more and reached towards the screen and felt himself hesitate before pressing the button that he'd witnessed Vaughn press not long before. The light shone green as the screen unlocked, and the drawer slowly began to open. He took a step back and stared down at the drawer, preparing himself for what had to be done next.

Last time viewing her body had been more for his amusement, to see Vaughn's reaction, to toy with him. It had been hard then to view see her, to come to realize that she was dead, that Vaughn had killed her, but this time it would be so much more difficult for him to bare. This time there weren't CIA agents surrounding him, watching him, monitoring his reaction. This time he was on his own, left in the silent and dark room with nothing but his emotions and her dead body. He drew in a breath before lifting the lid off of the drawer. He knelt down and stared at the body bag for what seemed like an eternity. He fought with himself, first reaching for the zipper then quickly pulling his hand away. He'd seen her body before, he really didn't want to see it again. But Sark's better judgment took over his emotions, and he knew that he had to view the body and be sure that it was the body of Lauren Reed that he was going to steal. He reached for the zipper again, this time pulling it down in one swift motion, revealing her pale face to him.

Sark looked away as he re-zipped the bag and signaled his employees. Two light sources approached from outside, the light dancing around the room with the movement of the men. He took a step back as they moved towards the open drawer and lifted her body rather carelessly. He kept quiet as they moved past him. They waited for him outside as he finished his other objectives for the night and returned the room to its original state.

Soon they were in their vehicle and driving towards their next destination. Everything had gone according to plan, and who knew how long it would be before the body was noticed to be missing? The CIA didn't want anyone to know of Lauren's death…at least that was their so-called reason for hiding her body from the public. But Sark knew that that wasn't it. Whatever their intentions had been, they were destroyed now. He smirked. Giving Lauren peace was his main objective, but making Agent Vaughn suffer was just the constellation prize for his actions. Sark tried to picture his face upon hearing the news of Lauren's disappearance. He only wished he could witness his reaction first hand. He sighed. He couldn't get everything he wanted...but he'd sure try.

* * *

"I just don't understand how it could be gone..." Vaughn continued to ramble on as he and Sydney drove towards the mausoleum. It continued to bore into him, the idea that her body was out there somewhere, God knows where, and more than likely with Sark. The very thought of that man's named raised Vaughn's continued to elevate his anger levels.

"We should have known he'd come back for her." Sydney had tried to console him since they'd received news of the kidnapping of his wife's body, but nothing she said helped.

"Why wasn't there higher security? We practically opened the door for him and handed her his body ourselves." He couldn't help but feel that this could have been prevented...it hurt so much because he _knew_ that he could have been stopped. Vaughn had put in a request to have her body moved after Sark's visit, but those things take time to process, and it hadn't been long since that visit. The CIA had facilitated it all for Sark...but it would be Vaughn who brought him back into custody, whether his actions were under protocol or not.

Sydney pulled into the curb before following Vaughn to the mausoleum. She hadn't been there before, sure she'd offered to go with Vaughn and Sark, but her offer had been declined. She could only imagine what had happened within that tiny room as Sark forced Vaughn to view Lauren's body. They both moved through the crowd of agents already at the scene before finally entering the site. Vaughn stared down at the drawer, now open and empty. The agent on-site stepped forward to greet them.

"Agent Vaughn, Agent Bristow," he nodded towards them as he shook their hands. "Fingerprints on the side of the drawer confirm that it was Julian Sark who...removed...the body from its resting place." He paused, monitoring Vaughn's reaction to the situation. Everyone knew of his relationship with Lauren, and everyone knew to tread carefully. "There's something you need to see...the drawer wasn't completely empty..." He trailed off as he left them for a moment before returning with a small envelope in his hand.

Vaughn took the envelope from his hand as he and Sydney looked down at it. Sark had been kind enough to leave a note behind. She was half-expecting it to be one of those "I O U" notes...Vaughn pulled out the piece of card from within and flipped it over to find a message. It simply read:

_Even in death you couldn't hold onto her._

Vaughn tightly clenched his jaw as he tried to control his anger. He'd wanted to kill Sark more now than he ever had before. He swallowed his emotions, determined not to show his colleagues, or Sydney how the entire situation affected him. But unbeknownst to Vaughn, Sark had witnessed that clenching of the jaw so characteristic of anger, and he smiled as he knew he'd gotten to Vaughn, even with something as simple as a piece of card.

Vaughn left the mausoleum with Sydney close behind.

"Vaughn, we'll find him, and we'll get her back."

"Yeah, we will. But we can't wait for them," he said as he gestured towards the agents around them.

Sydney frowned as she watched him take out his cell phone and dial, giving her no time to question what he meant by that. She wanted Sark in custody more than anyone, but something in Vaughn's voice told her that he wanted Sark as much as she did...but probably not to take back into custody. She snapped out of her thoughts as Vaughn began to speak into the phone.

"Has the tracking device been activated?"

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Thanks for reading, hope you liked it. I will try to update ASAP. Also want to say that I'm very anti-Lark, but I just needed to have some kind of moment with Sark before continuing on,and I know there's little Sarkney right now but I'm heading towards it, promise/ **Britt**


	2. Part Two

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**I'm Your Villain**

_Part Two_

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"The signal from the device implanted by Agent Vaughn has come to rest in Dublin, Ireland." Sloane said as he stepped to the side to reveal satellite images. "The body has been placed in what appears to be a public cemetery." 

Sydney watched the screen as it zoomed in closer on the cemetery. It felt like the old years being briefed at SD-6, the only change was Vaughn, who sat beside her now. He had been ready to leave as soon as Marshall had informed him of the location, his eagerness could be understood, but Sydney was certain that the motives behind it weren't entirely focused on the body of his dead wife.

"Why haven't we left yet? The longer we wait, the lower the chances of finding Sark in the area." Vaughn suddenly spoke up.

"Our objective here isn't to locate Sark, Agent Vaughn, it is to retrieve the body and ensure that news of her death hasn't spread." Sloane replied.

"We can't assume that Sark is still there, we also can't assume that he's just left her body in a public grave. We don't even know if he discovered the tracking device...he could be waiting." Sydney said as she turned to Vaughn who seemed to be finding it harder and harder to remain still.

" Sydney's right, we can't assume anything, especially in the case of Julian Sark. We do not know his motives. The removal of the body could only be a minor part of his plans. We have to approach with caution." Jack added.

"This will be a stealth retrieval mission...Sydney, Vaughn; you will leave in an hour." Sloane said before dismissing them, " Sydney, I'd like to see you in my office before you go."

* * *

Sydney watched Vaughn from across the aisle of the plane, studying him as he stared out of the window. Everyone was aware of his attachment, not only to Lauren but to Sark. His anger was taking over him, blinding his judgement and removing his abilities to see reason. Sloane had warned her of Vaughn's motives, of how he was obviously blindly looking past the retrieval mission and towards his own objective... Sark. He'd implanted a tracking device in his dead wife's body in the hopes of finding him, and that disturbed her. She didn't like being asked to pay extra attention to Vaughn, as though she were babysitting him, making sure he didn't do anything foolish. 

Her thoughts drifted back to Sark. Sure the objective was to retrieve Lauren's body, but like Vaughn, Sydney couldn't help wondering whether Sark was still nearby, whether there was a chance for his capture, and whether they could use Lauren's body as some kind of lure. Sark obviously had a much deeper attachment to Lauren than she had previously thought, so maybe they could use that against him...

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He lifted the glass of bubbly that rested on top of the grave stone and took a sip. They watched him from the other end of the cemetery, both ready in position to make a move. Sark remained at the grave, and they continued to watch as he ran a gloved hand over the engravings in the stone. Vaughn couldn't take it any longer. He couldn't stand seeing such a man as Sark displaying affection for a woman like Lauren, the woman that had been his wife. He knew the orders, he knew that he was supposed to remain in position beside Sydney, hidden by the rows of grave stones and monuments…But he couldn't do it any longer. 

"The area appears to be clear, there's no one there but you two, and Sark," Marshall said as he re-checked the feed from the body imaging satellite. Three heat sources, and from the live feed it appeared that they simply had to wait for Sark to leave before moving in to retrieve the body.

"Thanks Marshall," Sydney whispered into her comm. before relaxing her stance a little, readying herself for what could be a long wait.

Vaughn remained in position, not letting a single muscle relax in Sark's presence. He couldn't understand how Sydney could remain so calm in this situation, knowing that Sark was so close, so within reach, and so alone. It was the perfect opportunity, and he wasn't going to let it pass. With this thought in mind he began to move from behind the grave stone providing him with cover.

"Vaughn, Vaughn!" Sydney kept her voice as low as possible as she tried to grab for his sleeve and pull him back, but her attempts were pointless.

He looked back at her dismissingly, she of all people should understand. He continued to weave his way through the grave stones, carefully advancing with each step, closer and closer to the blond man the continued to mourn.

Marshall watched the screen as Vaughn moved towards Sark and couldn't help but hold his breath. If he'd learnt anything from his life with SD-6 and the CIA, it was that these things never went according to plan, especially when you strayed from the original one. Sydney's pleas to Vaughn had done nothing, and he knew that Vaughn wouldn't listen to him either. All he could do was watch and wait for everything to unfold.

Vaughn found cover behind the statue of an angel. He leant his back straight up against the cold granite as he steadied his breathing, composing himself for the moment he'd been waiting for for so long. He looked past the corner of the statue and burned Sark's exact position into his mind. He drew in one last breath before he stood and stepped out from behind the statue, giving him a clear shot at Sark's back.

"Wait! Wait! There's another figure approaching from the east!" Marshall exclaimed frantically but it was too late.

Sydney searched the eastern side of the cemetery for the approaching person but could see nothing in the darkness. "Vaughn, back off, now..."

Vaughn raised his gun, his sights set on the back of his skull. He tightened his grip on the gun as Sark finally registered the presence behind him. He turned, drawing Vaughn's eyes immediately to the red blinking light in Sark's hand. His eyes then traced up to the face of the man...it wasn't Sark.

"It isn't Sark..." he whispered to himself as though he needed to confirm what his eyes were seeing.

"Put the gun down Mr. Vaughn, you don't want to be blown up to you?"

Vaughn considered dropping his gun as Sydney weaved her way through the graves towards them. She still couldn't see the other figure, but according to Marshall, they had stopped suddenly not far from Vaughn and the other man.

"Where is he?" Vaughn practically growled.

"Mr. Sark's location isn't your main concern tonight. I will ask you once more...lower your gun."

Vaughn wasn't in the mood for games, and he wasn't in the mood for another of Sark's. He held his gun in the same position, directly aimed at the imposter's head.

"He's in front of you Syd, almost directly between you and Vaughn, can you see him?" Marshall asked, the sweat pouring from him as he continued to watch.

Sydney peered over the grave stone before her, now finally gaining view of the additional presence. " Sark!" Sydney exclaimed as she gained full view of him.

Vaughn spun around, desperately seeking his target, but the angel statue blocked his view. Shots began to ring out as Sark opened fire on Sydney, causing her to take cover behind the grave stones once more.

"Agent Vaughn...I can't say I'm not pleased by your foolishness." Sark said with a smirk from behind the statue. Now he had to wait only a few more moments before Vaughn would put everything into full effect. Sydney returned gunfire with Sark, causing him to duck down and disappear from her sight.

Vaughn held his gun on the imposter, though his mind remained focused on Sark. He knew exactly where he was, and he could get a clear shot... Sydney would cover him. His mind raced as he turned his back on the imposter and took a step towards the statue. Before Sydney could react the imposter pressed the detonator. Simultaneously four graves surrounding Vaughn's position exploded, knocking Sydney onto her back as a large cloud of smoke settled over the cemetery.

Marshall watched the explosion on screen as a large mass of heat exploded onto the screen, accompanied by the sound of the blast through the comms. "Sydney, Vaughn?" He asked, desperately hoping that they would answer him. He stared at the screen, waiting, hoping to still find their heat signatures present, but with a flicker the screen went black, and Marshall felt his heart beating outside of his chest.

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Sydney slowly lifted herself from the ground, finding it hard to balance herself after being shaken by the blast. She didn't know how long she'd been out, but the smoke was still thick, and she began to cough as it choked her. She gasped for air as she stared into the cloud, searching for movement, for a sign that Vaughn hadn't been affected by the blast. Between coughs and gasps for air she called for him, straining to hear for a response through the ringing in her ears...but he didn't respond. 

She rested against a grave stone as she tried to regain control of her breathing, wishing for the smoke to disappear. She could hear Marshall talking to her but she couldn't hear a single word. Slowly the smoke cloud lifted, allowing her to view the remains of the cemetery, the debris from the blasts...She moved slowly towards the epicenter where Vaughn had been standing. She braced herself for the worst...but instead, she found nothing.

"...Sark..."

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I wanted to have this updated sooner but even though I had it planned out I couldn't get it started. Thank y'all for the reviews. phi4858,I went with what I had planned already, I just hope it turned out to be different to what you didn't want to happen. I hope y'allliked this chapter. Let me know what you think so far./ **Britt**


	3. Part Three

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**I'm Your Villain**

_Part Three_

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Sydney stared out at the clouds as the plane made its way back to Los Angeles. Vaughn had ignored protocol, and completely disregarded her. It stung, knowing that he was so hell-bent on gaining revenge...and for what? Because of the relationship between Lauren and Sark? It was all part of the deception, part of the lie that was the Vaughn/Reed marriage, the marriage that had cut into her and left her bleeding for months. She thought after her death they'd be free, free to be together again, but she was wrong. From the grave Lauren haunted her, taunted her and continued to play a part in her life.

Her thoughts returned again to Vaughn...Lauren was dead, she was gone, and everything that had happened should have been buried with her. He wasn't concerned with her, with what they had or what they may have had as time passed. He'd destroyed it all that night with his actions. Going after Sark had severely compromised them, and now Vaughn was probably paying for it in a cell somewhere, and he would be paying for it in other ways too. She'd done her job right down to the letter, she'd recovered Lauren's body, and now because of the entire situation it would be her job to rescue Vaughn and secure Sark. She watched the clouds begin to change shades of grey. As the sky began to fall in to darkness she realized that her hope had also fallen, and would possibly be lost forever.

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The sound of chains rattling echoed throughout the small room as Vaughn began to awake. Sleepily his eyes opened to view his surroundings; a small concrete walled room, water dripped down the walls and formed puddle on the floor. The damp and cold enveloped him as he pulled at the chains that secured him to the metal chair, which itself was secured to the floor with bolts. He pulled at them again with all his strength, the metal scraping against his wrists. He let his arms fall to the arm rests as he sighed through the cloth gag in his mouth. He'd found Sark, but now what? Walking into a situation which would no doubt end with Sark beating him into a bloody pulp was the furthest situation in his mind when he'd decided to move from his position. Now would he regret it?

The door scraped against the floor as it opened. Light flooded into the dim room as Sark entered the room with a smirk on his face. All had gone according to plan. He'd relied on Vaughn's ignorance and hunger for revenge, and it had paid off. Now it was Vaughn who was imprisoned, vulnerable, and incapable of defending himself. It was his turn to have a little fun.

"I only hoped you'd be this foolish Mr. Vaughn. It seems we find ourselves in reversed roles." Sark moved across the room, finding a better position in which he could clearly see Vaughn's face. "You rather enjoyed your visits while I was in custody, and now it's only fair that I return the favor. But first...I wanted to ask; what sort of man places a tracking device in his dead wife's body?" He paused and watched Vaughn's face for any kind of response. "No answer? Well, that isn't the main focus of this meeting we find ourselves in...rather, I found myself wondering what is behind your motives, Mr. Vaughn. Is it revenge? Revenge for me stealing her away from you? Because really, she was only looking for something she wasn't getting from _you. _I didn't drive her into my arms, that was you. You pushed her away from you once Sydney returned. You're angered by the love I displayed for Lauren, that I removed her from that pitiful grave and gave her a proper burial, but really Mr. Vaughn, were you in any sort of position to be angry? She was never yours to bury..."

Vaughn bit into the gag and kept his gaze on Sark. He displayed no emotion. He didn't want to give Sark what he wanted; he didn't want him to know how his words affected him. Sark took a few steps closer. "Is it revenge? Or is it prevention? You push Sydney away as you pushed Lauren. You just can't hold onto your women, can you? It's pitiful, but not as pitiful as you will feel after I'm done with you." Sark smiled as he back handed Vaughn across the face and began one of the numerous planned sessions. Sark would get what he wanted. Vaughn was helping it along through his actions, and now he was simply the constellation prize, a party favor to play with while the true fun was yet to come.

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Two days later Sydney pulled into the Montecito Resort & Casino, uncertain of what to expect. She made her way inside the casino, her mind filled with the endless possibilities of what could be waiting for her, and who might be waiting. She didn't know what was going to happen, all she had was a small piece of information presumably sent from Sark, asking her Sydney, and only Sydney to be at a certain bar within the casino on this day, in 10 minutes time, and that was it. There was no mention of Vaughn, of a trade or anything concerning his safe return.

She looked down at her watch as she made her way towards the bar. She kept herself on high alert, but felt comfort knowing that Marshall was watching over her, and several plain clothed agents were scattered around her already. For the past two days they had been searching for anything to use to bargain with Sark, and for reasons why he would need Vaughn other than for the obvious motivation of torture. With so much information lacking APO was practically flying blind. All they could do was follow Sark's instructions and piece together data as they received it.

Sydney stood at the entrance of the bar and quickly scanned the interior, searching for any familiar faces or anyone suspicious. She couldn't see anyone she recognized, and looked down at her watch once more. With only 3 minutes until the specified time she headed inside and took a seat at the bar and waited for the minutes to count down. With Marshall watching overhead she focused on those around her rather than behind her, and waited for something, anything, but she remained undisturbed at her place at the bar. She consulted her watch again. It was now a minute past the designated time, and she was beginning to feel that pang in her stomach that she felt when things were going to go wrong.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked.

"I'm supposed to be meeting someone here around this time..." She trailed off, wondering just how much information she should give away, then realized that she really didn't have much to give away anyway. "I'm not really sure who it is I'm meeting...blind date." She smiled and tried to act as nervous as she possibly could.

"Oh, I think I've got a message here for you. Are you initials SB?"

"Yes, yes they are," she smiled and thanked him as he handed her an envelope with her initials scrawled on the outside. She opened the envelope to find a key for Room 793. She frowned. A specific room was private, hidden from the public and from crowds, and most importantly hidden from the surveillance cameras. She felt hesitant, but as she had been told by both Sloane and her father, this was their only lead to Sark.

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Sark watched the surveillance feed as Sydney left the bar and crossed the foyer, heading towards the elevators. He smiled. She was taking a risk going to that room and he admired that. He couldn't help but wonder what was driving her, whether she was focused more on finding himself or the missing Agent Vaughn. He watched her within the elevator, aware of another presence within the casino's system, as well as the several agents which had been following Sydney at length from the moment she'd entered the casino. It never ceased to amaze him that the direction to come alone was never followed, and almost always lead to the deaths which could have easily be prevented. But today they were lucky, for it wasn't one of those days when numerous deaths would occur for not following simple directions. Sark wasn't stupid enough to place himself within the hotel. He waited for her in another destination, and what she found in that room would certainly draw her to him, whether it was through curiosity or a need to find him...she would come to him.

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Sydney exited the elevator and moved along the corridor searching for Room 793. She walked further and further away from the elevator, each step filling her mind with doubts about the situation and what she might find within that room. With Sark things were never simple, and she still couldn't even hope to predict what she would be faced with in just a few moments. She paused in front of the door, key in hand, preparing herself for the worst and hoping for the best simultaneously. She gripped the gun in her purse as she turned the key and entered, only to find an empty room.

She moved further into the room, making sure she was alone. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing out of the ordinary...what was going on? She entered the bedroom, a discrepancy on the bed catching her eye. She moved to the end of the bed, getting a better look at what was spread out before her. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she certainly wasn't expecting this. There she found clothing, a passport and other documents, a plane ticket and that familiar blond wig. She lifted the wig as she opened the passport, the details within only confirming the reasoning behind the wig and clothing... "You've got to be kidding me..."

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I know it's taking me a while to get to the Sarkney, thanks for being patient, I'm working on it!Montecito used from LV, probably copyrighted to them so I'll acknowledge it here. My net might be gone in 2 weeks time so I'll try to have this wrapped up by then. Thanks for the reviews, and I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter should be up in the next few days./ **Britt**


	4. Part Four

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**I'm Your Villain**

_Part Four_

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Sydney scanned the crowd as she made her way through the terminal. The ticket she had found in Las Vegas had brought her here, to Paris. As she searched for a familiar face she wondered where she would go from here, whether Sark would be there waiting for her, or if he was sending her on a wild chase that would lead her nowhere. Before boarding the plane she'd managed to contact APO, and her only orders were to follow the lead, to get as much information as possible. Vaughn was the first priority, and then Sark. The order of tasks ignited a hint of anger within her once again. If Vaughn had stuck to protocol Sark would be her main priority, her main focus and use of time. But instead she had to rescue Vaughn; she was expected to simply ignore what dealings Sark could possibly be entered into, what lives he could be destroying, and all for Vaughn.

What was more important? Could she or anyone else place a greater importance on one life over another? Vaughn had already ignored her. She'd tried to help him, to save himself from his anger, from letting Lauren's betrayal change him but she'd failed. Sydney wondered whether or not that point in time really was when she'd lost him...or maybe he'd lost her. Her mind continued to wander as she grew bitter.

A crowd of people caught her attention. Each individual waited, each holding their own personal kind of identification; balloons, signs, all to help to attract the attention of those they were waiting for. Who would be waiting for her? Her gaze skimmed across the crowd, from sign to sign, letter to letter searching for something, anything which may be meant for her. Her eyes fell upon a man holding a simple cardboard sign. The name of her current alias was scribbled out in messy handwriting...this was it. She quickened her pace, closing the space between them. He recognized her immediately and turned, gesturing towards the main exit.

Seconds later she found herself in the back of a van being taken to Sark, or maybe yet another destination. Sydney realized the severity of the situation, how she was outnumbered and unarmed. These men and Sark held the upper hand. She hated feeling this way, vulnerable and alone in a situation such as this. She just hoped she could change this soon. The van continued through the parking lot towards a gated fence leading towards the private hangers of the airport. It came to rest in the hanger closest to the runway, and soon she was lead into the private jet where Sark himself sat before her. An air of smugness emanated from him as he stood to greet her.

" Sydney..." He simply said as he gestured for her to take a seat opposite him. He took in her appearance with a single sweeping glance, his mind immediately guided back to the last time she'd dressed this way. Once again he had her right where he wanted her, and amusingly dressed in exactly what he wanted. Reluctantly she moved to the seat, hating just how close she was to him now, how close she was to grabbing him by the collar. As enjoyable as it would be, she couldn't risk angering him, at least not while he had Vaughn, and not while she remained without a weapon.

"How was your flight?"

Sydney simply stared back at him in response. Her steely gaze prompted him to smirk slightly. He was getting to her already. But this meeting wasn't purely for his own amusement, but rather for business.

"Well, let's not waste any time on the pleasantries..." Sark trailed off, amused by her cold demeanor. He took a sip from his wine glass before continuing on; taking his time knowing that he had her full attention as he delayed. "...we find ourselves in a classic situation...you have the ability to get me something that I want...and I can give you something that _you _want. A simple trade. Once I have what I want, Agent Vaughn will be free to go...assuming that is what you want." He teased. After the events of the past few days he wondered just how strained the relationship between Sydney and Vaughn had become. He couldn't help but notice over the years an interesting pattern, and he couldn't wait to share his observations with her now. She looked out the window trying to desperately ignore Sark and the attention he was directing towards her. To get Vaughn back she needed to do something for Sark, she didn't want to think about what that something might turn out to be.

Sark watched her as she avoided conversation. He wondered what she was thinking, and why she stayed so quiet while Vaughn's life was in his hands. Surely she would ask after him, or at least attempt to gage whether or not he remained relatively unharmed. But she remained quiet, her focus on the sky outside, and he let his mind wander over the relationship that was Agent Bristow and Agent Vaughn. He felt the outsider always had the best view of a relationship. He'd noticed how Sydney and Vaughn only seemed to be interested in each other most when there was an obstacle in their path. Whether it be SD-6, or Lauren, without such obstacles their relationship seemed dull, almost lifeless, and now, given the current circumstances, he wondered why Sydney was there with him, risking herself for this man.

"You haven't asked me about Agent Vaughn..." Sark finally said, breaking the silence. He wanted to get a read on her, try to see how far she would go for this man...or if she'd simply go the limits for the task she'd been set.

But Sydney continued to remain quiet. Her gaze narrowing as she kept her eyes away from his. She knew what he was getting at, it was what she was trying to answer herself. Why didn't this situation scare her? Why didn't the thought of losing Vaughn hurt her like it once had? Maybe it was true, maybe she had lost him, or he'd lost her, and now it was only business.

* * *

Sydney zipped up the back of her dress and threw a glance over her shoulder at her reflection. She couldn't believe she was doing this again, pretending to be the woman that she despised. She fixed the blond wig, double checking that it was secure before leaving the room and her identity behind. For the rest of the night, and for as long as it took, she would be Lauren Reed.

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Sark offered his arm for her, waiting for her to place her arm on his and begin the charade. She glared at him for a moment, her eyes filled with contempt. But as reluctant as she was, she needed to let everything go and immerse herself in this alias. To make everyone else believe it she had to make herself believe it too. She placed her arm in his and moved closer to him. This wouldn't be too difficult. They were in a hotel in Havana to meet with the owner, a former Russian spy, as well as his associates. They'd heard of Lauren, and the relationship between her and Sark, but according to him this would be the first occasion in which they had actually met. Sydney wondered how they were so aware of Lauren without ever meeting her or knowing her appearance. Sark had made it clear that he had no intention of lying to her, of placing her in a position where she would be harmed as this meeting was for his gain. To walk into a situation in which he would compromise himself would be suicide. He wanted her to believe in his word. He had proved himself before and was determined to prove it again. Sark's confidence was wearing off on her, and with every step she took at his side she fell further into her role.

"So...how's this?" She whispered into his ear with _that_ accent.

"Perfect," he said as he pulled her in a little closer before leading her inside. They crossed the foyer and headed to the front desk.

"Ah Mr. Sark, Ms Reed, welcome to Havana. Mr. Rostislav wished for me to inform you of a change in plans. The meeting has been rescheduled until later tonight, and he also asked me to express his apologies for the change. Until then it would be an honor for you to stay in one of our suites."

"Thank you. We'll find it ourselves."

Sark and Sydney headed towards their room. He couldn't help but smirk at the change of plans. These men knew of their reputation, of his and Lauren's certain predilections, and they'd just happened to move the meeting until the evening and set the couple up with a free suite out of the goodness of their hearts. It almost made him laugh out loud. They were looking for a show. He wondered if Sydney would be up for giving them one.

They soon found themselves within a large luxurious suite on the ground floor of the hotel which opened out onto their own private pool. Sydney left Sark's side and explored the suite. Sark began to look too, but he was looking for something in particular. If they were up to what he thought they were, there would be some kind of evidence for it. This wasn't the first time someone had placed surveillance in his and Lauren's room; only now he wasn't with Lauren...he was with Sydney. Sark knew that if they were being watched, they'd need to continue their act within the bedroom, he just wondered whether or not he'd be able to sell it to Sydney. He thought back to that moment not long ago, the last time she'd worn that wig and employed that accent...then he hadn't even asked, she'd simply assumed the role.

After sweeping the suite as subtly as possible he went in search of Sydney and found her beside the pool. From what he could see any recording device was well hidden, and it was impossible to know the complexity of the system, or even if there were even any present at all. Still they needed to take certain precautions to ensure their credibility and to acquire what he wanted. He crossed the deck and stood behind her, close enough to hear his whispers.

"There's something I need to tell you..." he began, seeing the change in her posture immediately.

Syd felt a pang in her stomach as she turned to him. She hated being kept in the dark, especially in situations like this.

* * *

Sark followed her into the bedroom, his head swimming with thoughts of what was to come. It had surprised him how simply Sydney had accepted that she may have to assume the role of Lauren inside the bedroom as well as out of it. To him this only confirmed his presumptions about Sydney, and about Vaughn.

Sydney tried to hide her thoughts on the situation. How could she feel comfortable? She was dressed as Lauren, in a hotel bedroom with Sark, possibly being watched by Russian men on surveillance cameras...She turned to face him as she tried to push her thoughts aside. The last thing she needed was to think it through any longer. She moved closer to him, slipping off his jacket as they moved back towards the bed.

* * *

Five men stood before the wall of monitors, each glowing with images from various hotel rooms, each under specific surveillance. But it was the monitor at the center which drew in their attention. Rostislav wasn't certain that Sark could be trusted. He'd heard about Anna Espinosa, and how Sark had betrayed her trust to ensure his escape from the CIA. He'd also heard much about Lauren Reed, but never actually made her acquaintance. The men watched the screen intently, having all heard of the couples particular proclivities. They were all curious to say the least. So far their viewing had been rather uneventful. They were soon joined by a sixth man and watched the screen along with them. His attention was immediately drawn to the woman. He waited a few moments as he got a good look at her.

"That isn't Lauren Reed."

There was a knock at the door. Sydney slid off the bed and slipped on one of the bathrobes as she went to answer the door. She opened the door and immediately recognized blah. Before she could invite him in two men pushed their way inside, taking her by surprise as they pinned her up against the wall.

"What's going on?" She demanded as they searched her for a weapon. Another two men entered the suite and disappeared into the bedroom. She waited for an answer from any of them, but they remained silent. She struggled against their grip but it was useless. "Tell me, why are you doing this?" She asked again, receiving a backhand across the side of her face in response.

The other men returned, their expressions solemn.

" Sark's not here."

It hit her in an instant. They wouldn't be in their room; they wouldn't have her restrained unless they knew that she wasn't Lauren. And now Sark had disappeared, leaving her to deal with this on her own. He had to have known. He must've set her up. Why didn't she see it coming?

"Son of a bitch."

* * *

Funny how an update within the next few days turns into weeks. Sorry about that, things come up when you least expect them to. I tried to make up for it in length so I hope it wasn't too long. I'm not sure when the next part will be up, hopefully soon. Thanks for your patience, and your reviews. Hope y'all enjoy this one, let me know what you think! Sorry. / **Britt**


	5. Part Five

**I'm Your Villain**

_Part Five_

* * *

Sark stalked back and forth within his hotel room. For hours he walked the length of the room back and forth, slowly wearing a path into the carpet as he weighed his options. He knew what had to be done, but how? Two days had already passed. He knew name. He knew what he was capable of, but also knew that they'd keep her alive as long as possible. It was their style of torture. He stopped at the window and stared out across the cityscape. There really was only one way to do this…

* * *

Sydney had lost track of time. It felt like hours since they'd left her in that room on her own surrounded by darkness. Blood ran from her various wounds; the result of her face's meeting with knuckle busters. She could taste the coppery blood in her mouth. But those small wounds were the least of her worries. 

Her current situation was beyond dangerous, and she knew it. These men wanted nothing from her, no information, no contacts, nothing. They'd caught her trespassing, but they didn't know her. And this could only mean that these little torture sessions were nothing more than for their sick pleasure. Once they were bored, there was only one way out of that room. With Sark being the only person who knew of her current situation, she knew that that one way out was looking almost more than certain. She'd never felt this sense of hopelessness before. Her first moments within the room had been spent searching for a way to escape, but that search soon ended once she realized how secured she really was.

Bitterness had entered her mind that she hadn't felt this strongly. Why was she in this position? How many times had she been in a situation similar to this, for the CIA, for _Sloane_? Just the thought of his name made her cringe, literally. After losing so much to bring him down she found herself working for him once more. How did that work? And why was she doing it at all? Questions continued to pummel through her resolve, each of them digging her further into a hole full of anger and regrets. When she got out of this, she'd never work for them again.

The door into the room creaked open; the light flooding into the room temporarily blinded her. Fresh air rushed into the room, causing a light breeze. That small moment of comfort didn't last, and soon the men holding her resumed torturing her. Each of the men took their turns, each which a specialty of their own. Sydney coped the only way she knew how; shut them out, close her mind off, ignore the pain. She tried to remain calm, to keep her reactions to the pain and agony minimal.

But after hours and hours within that tiny room, soon she couldn't hide it any longer…they'd broken her.

* * *

The two men left her in the dark once more, alone with her whimpering echoing from the walls. They walked down to corridor towards the service elevator. One man wiped his hands clean of her blood while the other laughed about the way her face had twisted. They waited as the elevator descended towards them, before coming to a halt. The familiar ding of the elevator sounded as the doors opened. They took a step forward but neither of the men's feet ever hit the ground again.

Two bullets hit them directly between the eyes with deadly precision. Sark stepped over their crumpled bodies, paying no attention to them. He continued on his path towards the room they were holding her in. His head was pounding from the punches thrown by the other guards he hadn't managed to take by surprise, but despite this his mind remained focused. It wasn't hard to find her, and it wasn't hard to get to her, the return trip wouldn't be so easy, and he was counting on it. He stopped outside the room. He could hear her inside, and felt as though he was intruding just by listening to her. Sark knew that these men meant business when they took a prisoner, he could only imagine what they'd done to her.

He reached for the door handle and made sure she was aware of someone's presence beyond the closed door. The room beyond went quiet, and he took the queue to open the door, finding nothing but darkness. He searched the wall for the switch and found it. His first sight of her made him catch his breath…he wondered if she'd noticed. He moved across the room, trying to appear as calm as possible as he helped her out of the metal chair. She wobbled on her feet and grasped onto his shoulders to steady her before pulling away quickly. She didn't want him to see that she was weak. He tried not to study the damage done to her, but her face was stained with blood, sweat, tears and make up.

Sark watched as she began to cross the room and saw how she soon realized how badly her balance had been affected. He rushed to her side and put her arm around his shoulder and gave her a glance when she tried to pull away. She gave in, placing all of her weight onto him. She didn't have the energy to pretend that she could make it out on her own. They slowly made their way out of the room and he wondered exactly how he would be able to get them both out of there.

Sark looked back into the room as he pulled the door closed, spotting the bloodied blond wig discarded on the floor. He turned away and tightened his grip on Sydney. She'd gone through this because of him.

-----------------------------

Sark and Sydney had made it three quarters of the way down the corridor when they'd started to come for them. But Sark was planning on their arrival, finding an ideal location to defend them both while eliminating the opposition. In a rain of gunfire guard after guard fell to the ground until the flood of men from the upper levels ceased. They'd waited what seemed like an eternity before continuing on towards freedom.

-----------------------------

A van waited at the loading bay, exactly where it was supposed to be. Sark breathed a sigh of relief as they quickly crossed the parking lot. The back doors swung open and Sark helped Sydney in before climbing in behind her. Within minutes they were out in the city streets, miles from the hotel. He looked out the window as the surroundings blurred together, trying not to see the bright red color of her blood out of the corner of his eye. She was watching him through heavy eyelids and he wondered what she was thinking. He turned to face her, only to receive a quick punch to the face, right in the mouth. It stung as the blood trickled down his chin. Despite the circumstances she could still pack a punch. She'd split his lip. But he deserved it.

* * *

Sark locked the hotel suite door as he closed it behind them. He glanced across from her, still unable to look at her directly in the eyes. She scanned the room and headed straight to the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her and crumpled to the floor. Her body ached, her head pounded. She leant back against the cold tiled wall, her hands were shaking. Maybe it was the blood loss; maybe she just couldn't handle it anymore. She clenched her fists, forcefully trying to get them to stay still. She shut her eyes, letting darkness surround her as she tried to calm herself down. Her heart was still pounding though it shouldn't be.

-----------------------------

Sark found himself staring at the bathroom door. He'd registered a change in her, he wondered what it was. He felt as though he had failed her in some way, as though the bleeding wounds scattered across her body should be on his own. Guilt was consuming him and it was an unwelcoming feeling. When had things changed? He carelessly wiped at his lip, staining the cuff of his shirt and wincing at the pain it caused.

-----------------------------

Sydney gripped the edge of the basin as she pulled herself up and away from the cold floor. She stared at her reflection, at the woman who stared back at her, broken and bruised, blood drying on her skin. It wasn't okay for her anymore. This wasn't just part of the job, part of the greater good. Things had changed. She was working for Sloane now, Sloane, one of the world's most wanted men, and this time around she knew who he was, what he was, and still she stayed. Working for the CIA didn't offer what it used to, it only brought her pain. She didn't think she could block it out this time, she'd been tortured one too many times, and for what? So Sark could better himself? So that she could help her country? She'd decided it in that room, and it repeated itself in her mind once more. Not anymore.

She opened the cupboards and found a roll of bandages. She began to fill the basin; the sound of the water infiltrated the silence, but was somewhat soothing. Then there was a soft knock at the door. She kept her attention focused on the basin, she didn't want to deal with him now…maybe she couldn't, not until her mind had figured out whether she hated him for leaving her there or whether she was thankful for him coming back for her.

-----------------------------

Sark grasped the door handle and gently pushed the door open, slowly entering the bathroom. He didn't want to disturb her; he didn't want to get in her way. He just needed to tend to his wounds, and he found her doing the same. She dabbed at the wounds on her face, not giving him the slightest bit of attention. He looked down at his feet as he moved beside her. They shared the mirror as they washed the blood away. Another battle they'd shared…another battle they'd survived. Their blood mixed in the water, staining it red. Sark could see her wincing at the pain but pretended that he didn't notice. She'd suffered more than he had. He had nothing more than a few cuts and bruises; somehow he could see that hers were much deeper.

Sark wanted to say something to her, anything, but he couldn't find the words. What could he say? Sorry for getting you captured and tortured, let's have tea? He knew it was better to stay quiet. Anything he said would just sound trivial. He took a seat at the edge of the spa bath.

She pulled out the plug and watched the water drain down the sink. The red water spiraled around before disappearing. She tried to make her thoughts of what had happened disappear with them. If only it was that easy. She knew he was watching her as she turned to leave the small room. Sark couldn't stand the guilt that continued to bore into him.

" Sydney, wait…" He said softly, stopping her before she could leave.

"Please…don't" She turned to face him, raw emotion etched into her features. She didn't care what he saw, what he'd think. She couldn't pretend anymore, she didn't have the energy and she didn't know how long it would be before she wouldn't be able to keep herself together any longer.

Their eyes locked and he pulled his hand away. Her eyes and face spoke to him more than words could, and he hoped that his expression did the same. He was sorry; he wished that she could see it. She turned to leave again, feeling the sting of oncoming tears. She didn't want him to see her cry. He watched her begin to walk away but again he couldn't bear to see her leave without words being spoken. He stood and gently touched her arm, causing her to turn around once more.

" Sark..." She trailed off and looked away as the first tears spilled down her cheeks.

He slowly moved his hand to her chin, lifting it so that she faced him. Tears now ran down her face as he tried once more to find the right words to say. Still those perfect words evaded him, he had nothing to try to ease her pain, but he hoped that he could help to melt it away. He leant in and kissed her, gently brushing his lips against hers.

* * *

I'm back baby! I still have restricted access to the internet but I quit one of my jobs and have a lot more free time (thank God!!!) I hope y'all liked it, I'd like to hear from those of you still interested in it. The next part will be up ASAP. Thanks for reading, and for your patience. // **Britt**


	6. Part Six

**

* * *

**

I'm Your Villain

_Part Six_

* * *

Sark stared through the two-way mirror into the room beyond, past the faint reflection of himself that looked back at him. His prisoner had grown tired, and his weakened state he was no longer amusing to watch. Despite this, he liked to be in that room; its silent dark shadows provided him with the perfect environment in which he could ponder his thoughts. 

Yes, Sark was a changed man, he wanted people to know it, but not everything about him had changed. He still took pleasure in his work, though guilt had started to become a factor...Not in every aspect of his work, but still, it was there, and he was certain that he didn't like the feeling. Unfortunately for the poor excuse of a man beyond the glass window, Sark's guilt had never been present throughout the sessions they shared. It was just lucky for Vaughn that he was no longer his concern, and that this new man had made a promise he was about to hold up...

The events of the previous night had gone unspoken. They'd both allowed the event to simply remain unacknowledged through speech. Slight gestures and changes in her body language confirmed that something had happened, he hadn't just imagined it. He scoffed at himself. If it was his imagination at work things would have gone a lot differently...But he couldn't help but wonder...what did it mean? And what did _he_ want it to mean? Was he to simply continue on pretending that nothing had happened? That he hadn't acted on an impulse he'd harbored for years? An impulse that she didn't pull away from?

Sark didn't like confusion, it was a weakness. He had the need for certainty, for a clarity which at that point he considered, he may never find. He suddenly felt the need to shoot something, or someone. He turned, directing all of his anger within himself on Vaughn, the pathetically blinded man. At that moment Sark would have liked nothing more than to enter the room and shoot him, point blank, BANG. It played out perfectly in his mind. But he couldn't do it, not now..._but maybe later_. He smirked, and with that thought in his mind he left the lower sub-basement of his villa. It was time to take care of business.

-------------------------------------

Sydney looked past the scenic view of the bay below and out into the horizon. Her mind was captured with thoughts almost as endless as the view beyond. Where to now? It plagued her continuously. She couldn't go back to the CIA now, she couldn't return empty handed or empty hearted. It all used to be fun for her. Her time at SD-6 in the earlier years, back when she believed it to be a true division of the CIA, was nothing more than a thrilling game for her. But after everything, she just wasn't happy anymore. She thought that after the Alliance was taken down, the fun would return...but it hadn't.

People had died, lives had been destroyed, and she was never really supposed to acknowledge any of these events at all. Everything was stored in its own little compartment, but the compartments in her mind were full and beginning to overflow. She couldn't handle anymore. The funny thing was that she knew this was coming, that she'd have this revelation sooner or later, she just wasn't sure when or where...or who she'd be with at the time. Sydney heard footsteps approaching on the wooden floors and turned her attention towards the door of her room, away from the horizon and the future that beckoned her. Sark knocked and waited for her to answer the door. He smiled softly as she opened the door, still astounded that she had remained under his roof.

"There's something I think you should see..." He trailed off as he gestured for her to follow him into the corridor.

-------------------------------------

A switch was flipped and light flooded the cell, waking Vaughn from a daze. He squinted as he tried to make out the figure that approached him. The outline of a man quickly turned into the sight of one of the guards that had paid numerous visits to him. Vaughn put up a weak struggle as the guard unlocked the chains around his legs and hauled him up onto his feet. He looked down at his handcuffs as he was pushed out into the adjacent, dimly lit room. He considered his options, but saw no way out. He simply continued to follow the guard.

He soon found himself in one of many winding concrete passageways. They continued on until they reached a set of stairs that led upwards and out into the open. He struggled with the pace of the guard as they approached a series of parked black vans. He searched his surroundings once more, and turned back to look at the large house he'd exited from, trying to commit the image to memory. He turned his focus back onto the guard and the vans they were quickly approaching. The guard let go of Vaughn as he reached to open the back door to the van, giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move. With no sign of any other guards around, he lifted his arms and struck his fists downwards as hard as he could manage into the back of the neck of the guard. He crumpled to the floor. Vaughn scanned the area once more before closing the van door and heading towards the driver's seat.

Sark and Sydney watched from the adjacent van as Vaughn climbed into the driver's seat. The van pulled away and headed towards the gates before disappearing from view. Sark smiled. Vaughn had done exactly what he had thought he would. He didn't even consider that Sark wouldn't be stupid enough to move a prisoner with only one guard and completely no back up or surveillance. Sark was just lucky he could count on the man's blindness. Sydney stared at the gates where she had caught the last glimpse of the van as it drove away...as he drove away. He hadn't even returned to the house to search for her. A dozen questions filled her mind and only one thought seemed to quiet them down...would that be the last time she'd see Vaughn?

Sark turned to her. Was this where she thanked him for keeping his end of the deal? He didn't know what to expect in a situation such as this. It wasn't every day that he let a prisoner go when he hadn't received anything in return. Despite this, he didn't feel that sweeping feeling of accomplishment, of the so-called goodness that one should be overwhelmed with once his promise to her had been fulfilled. But then again, he'd only honored his promise and let Vaughn go, he hadn't done anything to help Sydney, personally. He owed her something, and he was certain that he knew the perfect way to help her.

* * *

There it is...and I solemnly swear that the next part will be posted a hell of a lot sooner! As in the next couple of weeks. It's partly written, we'll see how it goes, more Sarkney will be included. If there's anything you'd like to see let me know, next part will probably be the last. Sorry about including Vaughn, but he was a loose end that helps bring out Sark's playful, gun-loving side. Let me know what y'all think // Britt 


	7. Part Seven

* * *

**I'm Your Villain**

_Part Seven_

* * *

Sark stared down at the pool of red at his feet. It was a stark difference to the porcelain white skin beside it, beneath it. Sydney's eyes stared towards the roof, looking past it in a vacant gaze. It sent chills down his spine. He couldn't take his eyes from her for those split seconds. He watched her, waiting for her to move, to breathe, to blink, but she didn't make a sound. The room was eerily quiet, and the outside world seemed to follow suit. It was silent; except for the blood he could hear beating in his own ears, his heart racing. He took a step backwards, distancing himself from the scene before him.

He looked down at the camera he held in his hand, feeling its weight weighing him down. He lifted it, bringing the sight of her into the frame. The flash put a sparkle in her eye that quickly faded. He clicked again and again, making his way cautiously around her before finishing a full circle. He set the camera down on the table behind him before returning to her side. He knelt down next to her and smiled.

"Perfect".

-------------------------

Sydney removed the make up from her face, erasing the last remainders of the dead Sydney Bristow. Sark was watching her from the doorway. He was happy to see color in her cheeks again. He felt his mind repeatedly telling himself that she was okay, she was alive, she was fine, but his heart still raced faster than normal. The whole set up was an image from the future, he felt. If she was going to live this life, away from it all, she was going to be risking her life. Every move she made could uncover her location to someone dangerous, someone who wouldn't hesitate to exact their revenge on her. That was why he'd made himself a promise, and silently made her a promise. He would stick by her, whether she wanted him to or not, in the shadows or by her side, protecting her...at least for a little while. Sark felt she was his responsibility, now that he'd helped her escape it all.

Sydney smiled at him as she walked past him, now fully restored back to life. She sat at the computer and scrolled through the photos. She'd been made up to look dead before, but this time, it was so much more real, it sent chills down her spine. It would convince those who would need convincing, although it wouldn't silence everyone's thoughts about her.

-------------------------

Jack looked through the photos for what seemed like the thousandth time, combing them for the finer details, the details which might give away their fallacy. His eyes told him that these images were real, that the body was in fact Sydney's, and she was dead, but his brain couldn't comprehend it. Something told him it was wrong, a father's instinct, or a weathered spy in the industry, something just wasn't right about it. Last they knew, Sark had Sydney, and it wasn't like Sark to quietly end business. Sark was a man who reveled in his achievements, in the death of his enemies and the lives that he shattered. If he had Sydney he would've made them aware of it, whether she was alive or dead, they would have known, he would have allowed them to hope for her return, and then snatch it from them. But his mind countered. It had been confirmed that the photographs may not have come from him, which meant that Sark had the last known contact with Sydney, and that made him his first priority. He turned away from the computer screen and reached for the phone, when a new window popped open on his desktop.

-------------------------

Sydney hit send and collapsed the window as she felt a presence behind her. She tensed her shoulders, knowing that he'd seen the screen before she could hide it. She turned back and looked up at him, trying to gage his reaction. He had to understand that she needed to contact her father, for Jack's own good as well as Sark's, and her own. She opened her mouth to speak.

"You don't need to apologize." He said with a gentle, reassuring smile before she had the chance to speak.

Sydney turned back to the computer. That email was it. That was the last contact she'd have with her father, at least for the short term. She needed that closure, and she knew he would need it to. If Jack believed that Sark had killed her, he wouldn't stop until he had done the same, and worse, to Sark. This way she got to say goodbye to her father, at least for now. And it would prevent him from going after Sark. Although she couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't try to look for her, she just hoped he'd understand the reasons behind it. Sark had gone back to reading a book not far from where she sat. She couldn't help but feel that he wasn't as okay with the contact with her father as he tried to seem.

Sark stared down at the pages in front of him. Had she just compromised her own future for the sake of saying goodbye? He himself wouldn't have done such a thing, but at the same time he didn't have anyone to say goodbye to. He couldn't see it from her point of view, he could only try to be empathetic, to understand that it probably was something she just had to do. Would that be the end of it? He couldn't help but wonder if she would be able to let it all go, to live a new life without thinking about her family, her friends, and everything else she was leaving behind. What if she wasn't ready for it? What if all of this was for nothing, a waste? As he thought this he realized how little it mattered to him, the time spent organizing everything for her had not been a burden. It was an odd feeling knowing that he could sit with Sydney, once an enemy, in the same room, in a comfortable silence, and not feel himself checking his surroundings for possible outs or for weapons to use against her. For the first time in a very long career, he felt at ease.

Would that be a blessing, or a curse?

-------------------------

Several hours earlier, Sydney had boarded the private jet without knowing her destination. Before, that would have left her feeling unsettled, but now it felt like a new kind of freedom. Sark sat opposite her, sifting through a bundle of documents that he had organized for her, checking and double checking that everything was in order. She smiled. It was the little, and the big gestures, that he did that made her smile. His brow slightly furrowed, his blue eyes trained on the pieces of paper...

Sark looked up from the papers and out of the window, trying to gage a location. He continued to keep his eyes focused on the sky outside, feeling her eyes on him. He tried to conceal a smile but found it difficult. He looked back down at the papers before moving them back into a folder, a smirk now firmly impressed upon his features. He looked at her and found that she wasn't only watching him, but she had a smile on her face as well.

"How does it feel?" He asked, making her frown slightly.

"How does what feel?"

"To start again?" He asked. He'd thought of it himself, but he knew that for him it would be impossible.

"It feels...liberating…" She said with a smile that broadened into an almost goofy grin. She didn't know if that was the word to use, there were so many that could describe what she was feeling.

Sark raised the glass of champagne from the table in front of them, "To your new life…" He began before pausing, trying to think of the perfect thing to say, "May you find the happiness that you deserve."

Sydney found herself on the verge of tears as she raised her glass to his with a clink.

…_To her new life. _

* * *


End file.
